


Bits of Happiness

by alleinimmer



Series: How Did We Get Here? [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Bullying, How Do I Tag, Infinity War never happened, Not exactly Rogue Avengers friendly, Other Avengers Are Mentioned, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-03-06 15:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleinimmer/pseuds/alleinimmer
Summary: Happy Hogan has seen a lot working for Tony Stark. But by far the strangest thing he's ever seen was how much things changed after Peter Parker came along.





	1. Love Tap

**Author's Note:**

> First fic...haha we'll see how this goes.

Happy Hogan would be the first to acknowledge his life had never been anything but dull, but it had admittedly gotten a lot more interesting over the last few years. In the span of a single night, he had gone from washed up boxer to the personal bodyguard of the Tony Stark, and even now, all these years later, that jump still left him spinning. To think he’d gone from getting his lights punched out night after night, from emergency room visits that ended with saturated cottons wads up his nose, from booing, jeering crowds, to Tony Stark's arsenal of Audis, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, his rotating parade of models and strippers, to flashing strobe lights, champagne towers, packets of white powder blatantly changing hands, and money quite literally raining down over him, it was nothing short of incredible.

And then Tony had gone to Afghanistan. And what should have been a straightforward demonstration, no different from the dozens of others Tony had conducted in his career, soon became one of the most pivotal moments of the man’s entire life. When the news leaked that his convoy had been attacked, and the footage of the aftermath exploded across every news station in the world, experts had speculated that Tony was not dead, but being held captive. But days rolled into weeks and no word of Tony, of ransom demands, of anything, had trickled back, and eventually, Happy began to accept the fact that the best thing that had ever happened to him had come to a sudden end. It was just when he was finally adding the finishing touches on his pathetically short resume that his phone rang, and all at once, in a whirl of biting sarcasm and insane, damn near impossible, demands, Tony was back. And he was back with a vengeance.

And then somehow, someway, his life got even crazier than it was was before. In summation? Iron Man. Happy had always known that Tony was insane. It was endlessly frustrating, sure, but at the heart of all the ridiculous shit Tony put him through, it was...fun. And so when Tony actually managed to up the ante of his own incredible reputation with his now infamous press conference, Happy knew his life would never be remotely the same. And he wasn't wrong. Going from Tony’s personal bodyguard to the head of security of Stark Industries was nothing compared to some of the things he’d seen. Multiple attempted takeovers of Tony’s company, one of which included a Russian engineer with a personal vendetta against his boss and another involving a string of human bombs (one of which, he might add, had detonated right and front of him and had landed his ass in the hospital), an alien invasion of New York City, and an evil artificial intelligence system that almost managed to level the entire world, just to name a few. Happy had believed, again, that his life couldn't get any crazier. Fate, it seemed, had taken that belief personally. Because what it delivered Happy after the Avenger's so called "Civil War" could only be called spiteful.

Happy growled at the cab driver trying to cut him off. Was it ironic that part of his job description included "personal chauffeur" to Tony Stark despite the fact that there was nothing he hated more than Midtown traffic? He thought so. Whether Tony did or not, he didn't seem to care. Which was precisely how Happy found himself here, gunning for one of the handful of coveted spots along a traffic-packed line of cars at three o'clock on a insanely sunny Friday afternoon, waiting reluctantly for the mass exodus of students that would soon come bounding down the stairs of Midtown School of Science and Technology, eager to begin their fall break. Happy growled again when he thought back to the conversation he had had with Tony earlier that day.

"Pepper needs you to sign off security detail for the charity dinner you're hosting next month."

"Tell her I'm not signing anything until she agrees to renegotiate the terms of our agreement."

"Tell her yourself, she's your girlfriend."

"Fiancee, Hap. Words are important, let's use the right ones."

"Can you just sign the damn list so I can get on with my job?"

"Can you just use the magic word and maybe I'll consider it?"

"Can you please just sign the damn form?"

"Consider it officially being considered. Get me a coffee and I'll seriously consider it."

"Pep says you're not allowed to have more than four cups a day." Happy had grunted while Tony buzzed almost maniacally around his lab, dragging various heavy machinery around and throwing sheets of metal across the room while he searched for God knew what.

"Last I checked she's not the boss of you."

"Yeah, right, Stark Industries CEO has no business telling me how to handle the security detail of a Stark Industries hosted event."

"Coffee is essential."

"If I get you a coffee, then Pepper castrates me. And when she doesn't get your signature by tonight she also fires my ass. And then what am I supposed to do as a ball-less, disgraced former security guard of Tony Stark?"

"Well, it sounds like a great working title of the next up-and-coming New York bestseller. I'd buy that."

"Tony, would please just sign the damn papers."

"Tell you what, Hap, do me a favor and get me my coffee and fetch my kid and you've got a deal."

"What kid?"

"The kid! Jesus, how many kids do I hang around with?"

"Preferably none, unless you want to add 'pedophile' to the long list of things people suspect you to be."

"And just for that, I’m officially rescinding my offer-”

“Offer?”

“-No kid, no signature."

Cut to this hellish moment. Happy finally managed to slide into one of parking spaces just across the school, responding to a handful of curses thrown his way with one finger. He sighed deeply, turning to watch the front of the school. Peter was a good kid, and Happy liked him a lot. But...God, he was a lot. Just knowing that in a few minutes his backseat would be filled with relentless chatter on the minutiae of the kid's life was enough to kickstart a migraine right behind his eyes. Happy swallowed back a large gulp of his own coffee, before setting it in the cardboard holder beside Tony's, hoping the caffeine would calm it down before it could truly begin. The minutes rolled by, and Happy allowed himself a moment to just sit and relax and enjoy the peace and quiet Tony’s lifestyle so often refused him, until a handful of students began to trickle down the front stairs, which, in a matter of seconds, became an ocean of whooping, hollering kids was descending upon the streets of New York. Happy scanned the crowd, looking for Peter, and it was only when the majority of students had cleared the steps that Happy finally saw him.

Trudging far behind his classmates, and completely alone, with his backpack slung over his shoulders and head down, the kid looked...rough. Like he either hadn’t slept in a week or the the world had been doing its level best to make him as miserable as possible. His face was pale and drawn, with deep, bruise-like circles underneath his eyes. His shoulders were hunched forward, and it looked like he was trying to get away from everyone as fast as possible without drawing attention to himself. Just looking at him, Happy couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid, and for a moment, he wondered if he should call Tony and have him call the whole thing off. Given how beaten the kid looked, it seemed downright cruel to be dragging him over to the Tower to subject him to another few hours of Tony’s bullshit. Just as Happy was about to reach for his phone, Peter glanced up, and catching sight of Tony's black Audi towncar, raised an arm in a half-hearted wave. Happy reciprocated, equally half-assed, and watched as Peter began to make his way toward him, raising his coffee for one last shot of espresso before the kid got into the car.

Peter was halfway across the street, half-jogging, when a car suddenly came roaring toward him. Happy choked, watching in horror for a few heart-stopping moments as Peter managed to dodge the Porsche at the last moment, scrambling away as the driver shouted out the window, "Move your lame ass, Penis!"

Oh hell, no. Happy was out of the car faster than Peter had time to react, the poor kid staring after the car as it sped away with a lost look on his face. "PETER!"

Peter jerked back to look at Happy, the blank, vacant look on his face disappearing immediately when he realized what Happy had witnessed. Cheeks burning crimson, he dragged himself toward Happy, who grabbed Peter as soon as he was in reach, and hauled him back over to the sidewalk.

"Hey, Happy," Peter mumbled, cheeks still red when Happy whirled around to face him.

"What the hell was that?" Happy snarled, hands shooting out to grasp Peter's shoulders, checking him for hurts. Peter batted his hands away, moving toward the car and refusing to look at Happy.  
"Nothing!" His voice taking on a high pitch it had whenever he was lying.

"Bullshit!" Happy snapped, yanking his own door open as he slid into the car, glaring at Peter in his rearview mirror, who avoided his eyes.

"It's nothing, Happy, I swear!"

"Do you know that kid?"

"Yeah, Happy! It's cool! It's a joke! He was just screwing around!"

"Tony's right. You're a shit liar."

"I'm not lying!" Peter's voice had somehow gotten even higher as he struggled to get his seat belt on, hands shaking so hard he was having trouble maneuvering the buckle.

Happy slammed his hands on the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the horn. "That punk almost ran you over, Peter!"

"No he didn't!"

"The hood tapped your hip!"

"Tapped it! I told you, it's all an inside joke!"

"Is 'Penis' an inside joke too?" Happy asked sarcastically. Peter fell silent, ears a brilliant shade of red, refusing to raise his head to look at Happy. He let out a deep, shaky sigh, and Happy almost didn't hear him when he finally spoke.

"Please don't tell Mr. Stark." He begged.

"Why would I tell Tony?" Happy answered coolly. "Should I?"

"Please, Happy," Peter said again, sounding close to tears. "Please don't tell him."

Happy merely heaved a sigh, putting his blinker on as he watched and waited for an opportunity to pull out into traffic. "I won't tell him, kid. But you should."

"I'm not telling him," Peter snapped as Happy finally managed to pull out. "He's just some jerk who gives me a hard time. I can handle it."

"Kid, you just say the word and Tony can make sure you don't have to handle it."

"No," Peter snapped.

"Jesus, kid, why not?!"

"Because it's stupid!" Peter answered, voice thick again. "It's not Mr. Stark's problem and he's got way more important things to worry about."

"You wanna know what Tony Stark’s biggest problem is right now? Pepper trying to get him to cut back on coffee for some godforsaken reason. Way he’s been acting you would have thought she cut off his toes. Trust me, kid, Tony's got no problems right now and he cares about you. He'd drop everything for you if you just asked."

"No."

Happy let out a loud, exasperated groan, deciding to let it go for now. Dealing with Peter's typical, happy-go-lucky, chatterbox self was flirting with a headache. Arguing with an upset Peter was enough to induce an aneurysm. He really didn't know how Tony did it.

The car ride over to the Tower was awkward and for the most part, silent, punctuated every so often by Peter sniffling, which Happy did his best to ignore. When they finally pulled into the underground parking garage and into Happy's designated spot, the two sat for a moment, neither wanting to break the silence. It was, of course, Peter who finally did.

"Are you going to tell Mr. Stark?" He asked quietly. Happy sighed heavily.

"No, kid, I'm not going to tell him," He said after another moment of considering Peter's question.

"Really?" Peter sounded suspicious, and Happy caught him peeking up at him.

"Really," Happy assured him, turning around to look Peter dead on, who shifted uncomfortably under Happy's gaze. "Look, Peter, this is your problem, and I get that you want to deal with it the way you feel is best. But letting that punk ass brat get away with it is not helping yourself. You're just making it worse for yourself."

"I can take it," Peter told him. "Besides, it makes a great cover."

"Cover?"

"Yeah," Peter told him, eyes still locked on his ratty sneakers as though they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "No one would ever suspect Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Like that loser would ever have it in him to fight anybody."

It gave Happy pause. On one hand, it was brilliant. On the other...

"Peter, don't you think you've got enough on your plate without dealing with this kid?" He asked, as gently as he could. Which was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Peter didn't answer, just scrambled for the door handle and bolted out the car, heading straight for the elevator. Happy swore loudly before darting after him.

"PETER!" He called, racing after him, voicing echoing throughout the garage. He just managed to slide into the elevator before the doors slid shut. "Kid, what the hell?!"

"I'm sorry, Happy," Peter told him, still refusing to look at him. "Please don't tell Mr. Stark!"

"For the love of Christ, kid, I've already told you a million times I won't!"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes!"

"You're not lying to me?"

"Peter, why are you making such a big deal out of this?!"

"Because it's embarrassing!" Peter gasped, hands coming up to rub harshly at his eyes. "Mr. Stark never had to deal with anything like this!"

"Mr. Stark got his start as Iron Man because of shit like this!" Happy snapped. "You think he hired me as his body guard because he was lonely? Tony's been dealing with people fucking him over his whole life, Peter! He's not going to think less of you because some kid is giving you a hard time. Hell, he's probably the best person you can talk to about this!"

"Please don't tell him, Happy."

"OH MY GOD, I'M NOT GOING TO TELL TONY ANYTHING!"

"Tell me what, exactly?" Tony's calm, cool voice sounded suddenly, and both Peter and Happy froze, eyes darting to stare at him, who stood, looking for all extensive purposes amused, in the open doors of the elevator. God, FRIDAY must have taken them right to Tony without them even realizing it.

"Ummm," Happy began, catching Peter shrink back from the corner of his eye. Tony had a soft smirk on his face, but his shoulders were tense, and his eyes, half shaded behind his sunglasses, were hard, staring at Happy with a no-nonsense look that he had recently adopted ever since Peter came into their lives.

"It's nothing, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled from behind Happy.

"Quiet, kiddo, the adults are talking," Tony said with an exaggerated cheer. "Well, Happy?"

Happy hesitated. God, his life was so much simpler when it was made of drunk crowds and broken fists. The days when Tony's life was largely fast cars, sex, booze, and drugs seemed like a breeze compared to this. The fact that a mutant kid who spent his spare time swinging across Queens in a spider-motif spandex suit had somehow made his life even more complicated then when his boss became one of a handful of people sworn to defend the earth made him want to scream. Did he betray the poor kid right in front of him, or lie to his boss's face and lose the best thing that had ever happened to him?

"I failed my Spanish exam," Peter suddenly squeaked. Tony turned to him, smile inverting on itself.

"What?"

"I failed my Spanish exam," Peter repeated. "I didn't want to tell you since you worked so hard to help me prepare for it."

"You failed-kid, we studied for two weeks for that exam! How did you fail it?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter said, sounding miserable as he continued to cower behind Happy. "I've just been swamped with patrol and we had all these projects due before break-"

"Kid, relax," Tony told him. "It's fine. It's one exam and your final counts for 30% of your final grade anyway."

"Why do you even know that?" Happy couldn't stop himself from muttering under his breath.

"What can I say, Hap?" Tony snapped. "Some men go for asses, some like boobs. Me, I'm a numbers man."

"Ew," Peter said weakly.

"Silencio, nino." Tony quipped. "Seriously, kid, don't worry about it. I don't think any less of you for bombing one exam." He had tried to catch Peter's eye, but the kid remained stubbornly behind Happy, avoiding his mentor's gaze. Tony frowned. "Peter...you're not afraid of me, are you?"

"What?" Peter's head shot up immediately, horror written all over his face. "No, of course not!"

"Alright," Tony said with a shrug, nonchalant expression not quite meeting his eyes, before turning back to Happy. "So you've delivered me my wayward protege. More importantly, where's my liquid caffeine?"

Happy swore. "Shit. I left it in the car."

"You left it in the car?" Tony repeated, sounding absolutely appalled. "What's wrong with you?"

"Will you relax?" Happy asked, rolling his eyes. "I'll run back down and get it. It's no big deal."

"Leaving good, quality coffee forgotten inside a car is no big deal." Tony scoffed, reaching around Happy and pulling Peter out of the elevator. "You clearly have no appreciation for what matters in life, Hap. Pete, you head up to my lab. FRIDAY, Mr. Parker has full entry access and nothing else. I was thinking about letting you pop open one of my older Marks so you could take a look at the wiring. Sound fun?"

"Where are you going?" Peter asked him, eyeing them suspiciously when Tony took his place beside Happy.

"Didn't you hear Happy? He's committed coffee blasphemy! I for one, just can't let that stand, kid. Which is why my forehead of security here is going to be treated to a long lecture about the importance of coffee and how I expect my coffee to be treated."

Tony was fairly beaming at Peter as the elevator doors closed, the suspicious look fading but not disappearing completely from the young hero's face. It was only when the doors closed completely and elevator began moving that Tony let the smile drop. He didn't turn to look at Happy, just merely asked. "Be honest with me, Hogan. Is the kid ok?"

Happy hesitated. "I honestly don't know." He admitted.

"You don't know?" God, Tony had never sounded so disbelieving. "Last I checked, it was your job to know if that kid was ok!"

"Oh, I’m sorry, I could have sworn that was your job.” Happy clapped back. "Look, Tony...if the kid was in danger, believe me you'd be the first to know."

"So what is going on?" Tony snapped. "Happy, come on, just give me an idea."

Happy sighed, and hesitated for a moment before he answered. "I think some of the kids at his school...give him a hard time."

"What, like he's getting bullied?"

"I didn't say that." Happy countered in a tone that implied that was exactly what he was saying.

It was Tony's turn to hesitate. "Why wouldn't he tell me that?"

"I think he's embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?” Tony repeated, sounding flabbergasted. “Why?"

"Come on, Tony, don't be an idiot. You're pretty much the coolest person on the face of the earth. You really don't get why he might not want you to know if - and I'm not saying he is - he's not exactly the same way?"

Tony didn't answer him right away, and as the doors opened, the two paused for a moment before leaving together, making their way towards the sleek black Audi. "Peter's not afraid of me, right?"

"What?" Happy asked him, grabbing the door handle. "No, Tony, the kid absolutely adores you. It's disgusting." He picked up the carrier that was still sitting innocently on the passenger seat, and offered it to Tony. "You just asked him that yourself and he said no. What, do you think he's lying?"

"If he was scared of me, I don't think he would say so," Tony muttered, taking a swig of the coffee with a grimace.

"But why are you so convinced he is?"

“He’s supposed to come to me for stuff like this.”

“Tony,” Happy sighed. “Kids get bullied. It sucks, and I hate to say it, but it’s a pretty normal thing to happen, especially when he moonlights as a professional punching bag. Quit making such a big deal out of it. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you.”

“But he’s supposed to come to me with stuff like this,” Tony persisted. “I don’t want him to think he can’t come to me for anything. I don’t want him to think he can’t trust me.”

“Of course he trusts you.” Happy said, staring at him. “Where is this coming from?”

Tony didn't answer him, and it took a minute for Happy to put two and two together. "Tony, you're not Howard."

"So he told me."

"I'm serious, Tony," Happy sighed, following Tony as he turned back towards the elevator. "You're great with him."

"So great he doesn’t feel like he can even talk to me about what’s going on his life. Yeah, you’re right. I deserve an award." Tony said sarcastically. The elevator doors closed behind them. "FRIDAY, take us up."

"Right away." Her robotic voice answered. Tony took another sip of his coffee, and Happy shifted nervously beside him.

"Don't tell the kid I said anything," He pleaded after a moment.

"Why? You didn't tell me anything," Tony said with a mirthless smile and a wink.

"I'm serious, Tony."

"I'm not going to say anything, Hap, relax." Another sip. "You know, if you're not careful, people are going to think you care about the kid."

"Some would say the same about you," Happy snapped back without a beat.

"Alright, cool your jets, Hogan." Another, longer pause followed, but Tony broke it before the doors sprang open. "Next time you pick the kid up from school, I want to come."

"You want to come with me to pick him up from school?"

"That's what I said."

"Why?"

"No reason. It's not like you told me anything important." The doors parted silently. "But I think it might up the kid's cool factor if his classmates see him hanging out with Iron Man, don't you?" Tony drifted out the elevators, heading for his private lab. "Thanks for fetching the kid, Happy. That paperwork you needed me to sign is in your office, by the way."

Happy couldn't help but roll his eyes, having completely forgotten the reason he had gone out to get Peter in the first place. "Just don't work the kid too hard, Tony."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony called back over his shoulder. "We're gonna a nice, relaxing day of playing with live wires and blowtorches. It's gonna be great!"

Happy shook his head, watching as Tony disappeared around the corner, muttering to himself. "As if Howard would ever do the same for you."


	2. Whale Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's fall break is over...

Happy didn't see much of Peter the week he was on fall break. Not in person, anyway. Once or twice he did manage to catch a glimpse of him when he was scrolling through his newsfeed, snorting at the blurry images of Peter caught in some pretty unflattering positions. Evidently, the local newspaper photographers were having a hard time capturing a decent action shot of Spider-Man. Most had resorted to snapping the picturess during the few moments that Peter was standing still and on the ground. One in particular, one that Happy was seriously considering having framed, featured Spider-Man returning a cat he had just rescued to a little girl. The image featured the child reaching for her pet, a look of absolute panic on her face, while Peter stood twisted at a strange, unnatural angle, evidently writhing desperately, doing everything in his power to get the cat to detach itself from him. The cat, for its part, was forever immortalized with its claws sunk deep in Peter's shoulders, body stretched its full length with Peter’s hands wrapped around its lower half, ears flat against its skull, eyes wide and positively deranged looking. The fact that the thing’s mouth was as stretched as the rest of it could only mean that it had to have been shrieking the moment the picture was taken. But the real cherry on top was the headline that accompanied the image: ‘Rest Easy, Queens. Spidey’s No Scaredy-Cat.’ Ha. God, it was so lame it was classic.

Aside from that, Peter had been pretty quiet during his time off, something that Happy was extremely grateful for. Between the fact that Tony had officially taken over taking all of Peter's voicemails, texts, updates, phone calls, messages, and notes, and the fact that he didn't need to take a random detour through downtown Manhattan toward Midtown at three o'clock in the afternoon twice a week, he actually saved a lot of time. It was amazing, actually how much he managed to get done when he wasn't chasing around after Peter. 

Which is probably why it felt like the kid's fall break was over before it even began. Far too soon, in Happy's opinion, he found himself back in line in front of the school, vying for the same parking spot amid honking cars and flipped birds. When he finally slipped into one of the spots, he could physically feel his blood throbbing in his ears, and it took everything he had not to bite Tony's head off when the man glanced up from his phone, asking him as he did, "Jeez, does it always take you this long to get here?"

Happy just growled in response, ignoring Tony when he chuckled lightly beside him. Thankfully, he got distracted soon enough by the onslaught of high schoolers who had just come bursting through the doors, the swell cascading down the stairs and toward the streets. 

"Where is he?" Tony muttered, eyes scanning the sea of teenagers with a slight frown. 

"He usually hangs back," Happy grunted. "He probably won't be out for another few minutes."

"Well, if that's the case, I can't think of a better time to stretch my legs, can you?" 

"Tony, don't embarrass the poor kid," Happy sighed. "It's not like he's doing himself any favors."

"I'm not going to embarrass him!" Tony snapped, clearly offended. "How could I possibly embarrass him? I’m the least embarrassing person I know!"

Happy merely let out an exaggerated sigh when Tony hopped out of the car, watching warily as the man settled to lean against the back car door, arms folded comfortably against his chest, looking, as loathe as Happy was to admit it, the picture of cool as he surveyed the school with a disinterested expression, face half-hidden behind his signature sunglasses. It didn't take long for the kids to realize just who was standing, casual as hell, across their school, and immediately, the throng seemed to still. Happy waited, expected all hell to break loose, the way it usually did when Tony showed up somewhere unannounced, but the kids were strangely quiet, almost as though they didn’t believe what they were seeing and were afraid that if they spoke, it would scare Tony aware. Instead, fingers pointed and hands waved over their friends, and dozens and dozens of phones lifted to snap his picture. All from a respectful distance and without a word so much as breathed. Tony, for his part, pretended not to notice he was causing a major traffic incident, instead surveying the crowds for the little shit who was slowly but surely turning Happy's life completely upside down. 

It was all too soon that Tony was raising an arm, waving lazily as he called out "Hey, Pete!" 

Happy looked around. He hadn’t... really been paying attention. You see one dumbass teenager you’ve seen them all, right? And the last thing he wanted to deal with was a couple hundred of them staring starstruck at his goddam, infuriating boss. He had expected to have a hard time finding the shrimp, but it wasn’t hard to find the kid at all. Looking like a deer in the headlights as the crowd parted and turned towards him, Peter stood with wide eyes and an expression that was slowly morphing from confusion, to shock, to horror, the tips of his ears burning red. Happy cringed, knowing the boy had to be mortified. Tony's excessiveness was definitely something you had to get used to, and especially for a kid like Peter, who did his very best to avoid the spotlight at all costs, it had to be downright unnerving. He watched as Tony waved the kid over, urging him to hurry up, the boy responding immediately, almost tripping over his own feet as he scrambled away from the crowd and towards the car. Tony was fairly beaming as he opened the back door, watching in apparent amusement when the kid all but dove into the backseat, before shaking his head fondly and following at a much more relaxed, graceful pace. 

"Jesus, kid, does your school always have so much traffic? I'm getting claustrophobic. Hap, let's blow this taco stand!"

"Mr. Stark, I'm trying to keep a low profile, you know."

"Yeah, let me tell you, Pete, I don't think you're succeeding, what with you gallivanting around Queens in that ridiculous lycra suit."

"Ridiculous?! You designed it!" 

"Yeah, I know, and the whole time I was you know what I was thinking? I was thinking, 'God, I can't believe I'm making this ridiculous lycra suit for this kid.'"

"If you thought it was so ridiculous, why'd you make it?"

"Because it was better than that god-awful pajama set you were running around in. Seriously, kid - red and blue? You couldn't get more tacky."

"Captain America's uniform is red and blue."

"And white. Dude looks like a flag puked all over him."

"Your suit is red and gold!"

"What's your point?"

"How's that not tacky?!"

"Look, if you don't get why red and gold is awesome and red and blue clashes, then I'm sorry, I can't help you, kid."

"You're the worst."

"You're not wrong." Happy grunted.

"Hey, Happy," Peter said, sounding miserable. 

"Doing ok?"

"I was." 

"Don't make me make you walk, ingrate," Tony threatened, tapping away at his phone.

"Mr. Stark..seriously,.what are you doing here? You never come to pick me up. Is something wrong?" Peter's voice immediately tensed. "Is May ok? Is there a mission?"

"Nope, no mission. Not sure about May. I assume she's alright...have you talked to her recently? Because she hasn't screamed at me for several days, and I gotta tell you, that's unusual for her."

"God, Tony, leave the poor kid alone."

"You saying that because you care or because you want to score brownie points with the hot Aunt, Hap?"

"Tony!"

"Why would you want to score brownie points with May?" Peter asked, sounding strangely confused and suspicious at once. 

"Well, you see, Pete, your Aunt is a very attractive woman-"

"Mr. Stark, do NOT finish that sentence!" 

"Well, how else am I supposed to explain to you that Happy's got the hots for your Aunt?"

"WHAT?!"

"Tony, shut up!" 

"Happy, what the hell?!"

"Yeah, Happy, what the hell?" Tony echoed, sounding like he could barely contain his laughter.

"Tony, I swear to God-" Happy began, only to be cut off mid-sentence by an incredibly loud, high pitched rumbling, so sudden and so loud that it was soon the only sound that was filling the car. When it finally faded away, the silence prevailed for a few moments. Happy continued to drive, completely dumbfounded. He had never heard anything like that before. Was there something wrong with the car? He glanced up at his rearview mirror at Tony, expected him to look annoyed, or confused, but instead, he saw Tony staring at Peter with absolute shock. Peter, for his part, was sitting there quietly, face flushed scarlet. Happy blinked. 

"What was that?" He asked. "Kid, was that you?"

Peter didn't answer, just turned a more shocking shade of red. "Sorry."

"Was that your stomach?" Tony asked him. "Did you not eat today?"

"No, I did."

"Peter..." Tony growled in a tone that dared Peter to lie to him.

"I did! I just...lost part of it."

"You lost part of your lunch." Tony repeated slowly, deadpan. 

"Yeah."

"And when you say 'lost'...do you mean someone lost it for you?"

"What? No!" 

"Uh huh." Tony's head swiveled his attention forward. "Happy! First burger place you see, pull over."

"You don't have to-"

"I'm not listening to that noise again, kid, it sounds like a dying whale." 

"Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Tony sighed, perking up when Happy pulled into a drive-through for McDonalds, and then asked sharply. "What are you doing?" Happy was about to retort that he was doing what Tony told him to do, half turning around to snap at him, but stopped when he saw that Tony's full attention was still focused on Peter, who was leaning forward, his wallet in one hand a few crumpled dollar bills in another. "Put that away, you're not paying for this."

"But Mr. Stark-"

"Nope. Children don't pay for their meals. Especially children that moonlight as unpaid vigilantes. Now quick, what do you want?"

"Um-"

"Come on, kid, don't think, just tell us what you want."

"Just a Big Mac, please."

"Got it. Hap, get the kid three Big Macs, two fries and a large shake."

"What? No-"

"Yes." Tony said firmly. "Superheroes with super metabolisms get three burgers minimal."

"That's not a thing."

"It is now. You know what's also a thing now? You actually eating like you're supposed to."

"I eat." Peter huffed, sounding offended.

"Which is why I tacked on that little clarifier 'like you're supposed to'." 

"Mr. Stark, you're being ridiculous."

"Yeah, kid, ridiculous bullshit is kind of what I'm known for. Gotta say, I'm not a fan of dealing with it when it's coming from you, though." 

"But Mr. Stark-" Only for the kid to be interrupted by his own stomach again. 

"You know, I should probably get Bruce to try and quantify just how much you need to eat." Tony said when the noise finally died away. "You've got to be on the same level as Cap. Or somewhere near there. Hap, what do you think?"

"I think the kid's got Cap beat," Happy told them, handing the brown paper bag back to Tony. "Easily. Remember Sam's birthday dinner last month? The kid put away more pasta that all of us combined." 

"God, don't remind me," Tony groaned, pushing the bag into Peter' hands. "Kid, I got indigestion just watching you."

"I-"

"You better eat at least two of those. I mean it. I will disown you if you don't."

"Disown me?" Peter asked at the same time Happy echoed, "Disown him?"

"Jesus, can't I try to make a point without everyone micro analyzing everything I say?" Tony snapped, glaring first at Happy and then at Peter, who sat with the the McDonald's bag in his lap, looking up at Tony with absolute confusion. Tony frowned at him. "Seriously, eat that."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Don't mention it, bud." Tony answered, reaching over and ruffling the kid's hair to an almost excessive degree before pulling his phone out again. The car soon fell silent, occasionally punctuated by the rustling of Peter's bag, but Happy couldn't help but glance up at his rearview mirror. Peter’s head was angled down and he was holding a handful of fries between his fingers, and at first glance, you might have said he was embarrassed, but Happy knew by the soft smile on his face that it was just the opposite. The kid only got that look on his face on the rare occasions that Tony would pull his head out of his own ass and let the kid know he actually cared about him. It wasn’t often, but it meant the world to the kid. Tony, for his part, was staring at his phone as though the fate of the world depended on it, refusing to look at Peter.

Tony was hardly one for affection. In fact, he downright hated it. A big part of it, Happy knew, was because he had grown up with so little of it, and had been told ad nauseum that it was weakness. Part of Tony’s problem was the fact that he simply didn’t know what to do with it when presented with it. Add that to the fact that so many of the very few who had shown Tony affection, people like Obadiah Stane, or hell, even Steve Rogers, had also been the ones to betray him so absolutely, and it wasn’t hard to understand why he shied away from it. If anything, whenever anyone tried to show Tony compassion, he tended to respond defensively, usually with deflection or cruel sarcasm in some attempt to push them away. And even those who managed to weather Tony’s initial abrasive exterior were often subjected to various rounds of Tony testing them to see just exactly he could get away with. Happy had to admit, it could be exhausting.

Which was precisely what made Peter Parker so incredible. Admittedly, Tony hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy with the kid at first, but he had definitely come around a hell of a lot faster with Peter than he had with anyone else. Part of it, Happy felt sure, was because Peter was so fundamentally good a person that it was hard to find a reason not to like him. But it was far more than that. A big part of it, Happy felt, was that Peter was everything that Tony could have been but never had the chance to become. Whereas Tony had been bent and twisted by the tragedies that followed him, Peter was a light. Hell, Tony had admitted to Happy that part of the reason he kept the kid at arm’s length was because he was afraid the kid would turn out like him. And it was a perfectly valid point. The path he’d chosen was one that was bound to cause nothing but suffering in the years to come. Happy had often wondered himself how long Peter could last before he began to lose himself to the darkness that came with the burden of being an Avenger. He hoped longer than most. The kid had definitely proved himself to be a persistent, resilient little bastard. But even so, Happy could tell that there was far more to what Tony meant than what he led on. Tony may have wanted Happy and the others to believe he hesitated to let the kid know how much he cared about him because he wanted to protect Peter as much as he could from the life Tony had chosen. But that was inevitable, and Tony knew, Happy knew, that he wasn’t doing Peter any favors by pretending otherwise. No the other part of it, Happy knew, was that he was afraid he’d hurt the kid the way that Howard had hurt him. Because if they were all being honest with themselves, Tony was more than capable of hurting Peter. Easily.

And yet, if you dug past Tony’s reluctance to ruin the kid, either by being too good of an example of what it meant to be a self-sacrificing moron or in the way his own father had ruined him, Tony’s real reluctance was a bit more selfish. It was obvious that Tony adored the kid. Which was precisely why he was so afraid to show it. Because if Peter knew how much Tony cared about him, he could just as easily hurt Tony the same way. Which, was laughable, really, the idea that Peter would ever do anything to intentionally hurt Tony or anyone else for that matter. Even so, Tony was a child of abuse and had been subjected to more betrayal in the span of a few years than most in their entire lives, so was it really so much of a stretch for him to think, somehow, someway, that Peter would betray him in a way only a handful of others had managed before?

Because honestly, if Tony was afraid that Peter might hurt him someday, well, Happy could easily see that happening. Because the kid already had so much of Tony that it would be too damned easy for him to break his heart if he wanted to, the same way Tony could break his.

Happy shook his head. If there was one thing he believed without question, it was that Peter would never, intentionally anyway, betray Tony. And on some level, he was pretty sure that Tony knew it too, he was just afraid to let himself truly believe it. And if there was one thing Happy didn’t want to see happen, it was for Peter to get hurt in Tony’s efforts to protect himself. 

"Don't listen to him, kid," Happy piped up suddenly. “As if there were anything you could do to make Tony disown you."

"Happy?" Tony called back sweetly, "Just shut up and drive."


	3. Window of Opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fair warning: Happy is going to ramble a bit at the beginning. Bear with me, I promise I have a point! Also, I haven't done an official count or anything, but I'm pretty sure this chapter wins the chapter for most swear words.

If you ask any true New Yorker, they'll all tell you the same thing: they have a love-hate relationship with the greatest city in the world. On one hand, it’s the city of possibility. If you can think it, odds are, you can find it in New York, whether it’s a chance at fame, underground clubs devoted to any number of explicit, illegal acts or substances, or Chinese takeout delivered to your apartment door at two in the morning, it’s there and it’s waiting for you. It's a city that's become synonymous with what it means to have a dream and defined by the grit and grime that people romanticize in the name of pursuing those dreams. It’s a city that is very much alive, with a palpable heart a soul. It’s a city of bright lights and architectural ingenuity, of buildings that soar straight towards the clouds and disappear from view. It’s high fashion and priceless art, as well as a symphony of every language across the globe woven seamlessly together, of guitars strummed on street corners, cellos echoing in orchestra halls, of sirens singing late into the night. The city is hope. It’s dreams. It’s wonder. 

But on the flip side, it's the city that never sleeps. Never once does the insanity of New York grow quiet. Whether it's high noon, six in the evening, or four in the morning, the neon lights neither flicker nor fade, the cars still honk, sirens wail, brakes shriek, and people shout to the rooftops of the skyscrapers that project several hundred feet above the ground with little regard for common courtesy. It's crowded in a way the confounds logic. It can be impossible to catch a cab depending on where you are and the time of day. And it’s filthy - every conceivable surface is coated not only with car exhaust, rock hard gum, and cigarette butts, but also the piss of homeless men and the spit of anyone who’s been scorned or simply bored. There are rats that scurry boldy across the sidewalk before disappearing beneath dumpsters filled with needles and shattered pipes and bongs. And for every dream that becomes reality, there are a hundred that have been brutally murdered and crushed beneath the pavement. It’s disappointing. It’s disgusting. And it's as maddening as it is inspiring. 

But perhaps the worst part of New York is the fact that the seasons don't seem to transition gradually from one to the other, but simply flip the switch from one extreme to the other, often with little warning. Global warming probably isn't helping. And honestly, Happy has a hard time choosing the lesser of the two evils: the overwhelming, suffocating heat of summer, or the breath-stealing chill of winter. It was almost April, and for the last few weeks the temperature had slowly but surely been climbing, And then suddenly, for absolutely no reason whatsoever, it plummeted overnight. It was 52 degrees yesterday. And this morning, it was half that. Because of course it was. 

"Why the fuck are all these goddamn windows open?" Happy snapped as he strode into Tony's personal suite, glaring hatefully at each and every one while Tony calmly carried on shifting through a dozen boxes that lay scattered across the room. 

“You better not let Cap hear you talk like that,” Tony called back calmly, “You know how he feels about bad language words.”

“I could care less how that self righteous prick feels - ignoring the fact that it's 30 degrees outside, all of those are major breaches of the Tower's security," Happy spat, to which Tony rolled his eyes.

"Hap. We're on the penthouse floor of the tallest building in New York City. I've got the world’s most advanced AI system monitoring not only the general perimeter but all major points of entry for anything even remotely considered a threat. Which, by the way, FRIDAY has strict orders to let you be the first to know the second she detects anything dangerous." He said. 

“I KNOW, TONY!” Happy thundered. “SHE’S BEEN ALERTING ME ALL MORNING!”

“What?” Tony his tone almost snappish as he finally turned to grace Happy with his full attention. “What are you talking about?”

“The pigeons, Tony!” 

“...The pigeons.” Tony repeated slowly, as though he was making sure he hadn’t misheard him.

“The security alarm has been going off non-stop every time one of them gets too close to the open windows! Something about them being a ‘biohazard’ or something! The alarm has gone off-” He paused to quickly check his phone, “-57 times in the last hour! All over a bunch of fucking pigeons!”

For a minute, Tony didn’t react at all. He merely sat staring silently at Happy as though he’d never spoken, his expression absolutely blank, despite the fact that Happy was glaring daggers at him. “Ooohhhhh.” He said eventually. “Right.”

“What?” Happy snarled, eyeing him distrustfully.

“Well…” Tony began before he broke off, snickering slightly.

“Tony, what did you do?” Happy snarled, glaring at him as he continued to chuckle under his breath. 

“Well...you’re the one who’s always calling them ‘filthy winged rats’. So I might have...personalized your alert system for you.”

“...You didn’t.” Happy said, staring at him. “You rewrote my security feed to include goddam pigeons?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Way too much to go into right now, Hap,” Tony said, shaking his head and smirking. “But that’s beside the point. Come on, admit it, it was funny.”

“Maybe if I weren’t in the middle of interviewing for the new head of the front desk’s security team , then sure, it’d be hilarious!”

“Oh, shoot, was that today?” Tony asked, grin widening.

“Yes! I told you that at least fifteen times last week...dammit,it’s not funny, Tony! Stop laughing!”

“Huh, must have slipped my mind.”

“Is this all just a big joke to you?!”

“I mean kinda,” Tony answered with a shrug. “We’re talking about someone who’s going to be in charge of the security guys at the front desk. Not exactly priority.”

“THE FRONT DESK IS THE FIRST POINT OF ENTRY TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC AND THE MOST LIKELY POINT OF ATTACK!”

“Good God, you need a vacation.”

“I don’t need a vacation!” Happy sputtered, insulted. “I need you to close those damn windows! Or at least tell FRIDAY to stop freaking out for no goddamn reason!”

“...And what exactly are your thoughts on Xanax?”

“Tony!” 

“Happy.” Tony said firmly, all previous humor vanishing on the spot. “Seriously, chill out. You’re gonna burst a major blood vessel and then who’s gonna be the one to clean it up? It won’t be DUM-E, I can tell you that much."

"Oh fuck you. At this point, after all the shit you've put me through I don't think I could burst a blood vessel even if wanted to."

"Promise?" Tony smirked before turning away and pulling the lid off of another cardboard box and digging through it without much interest. “FRIDAY, darling?” He called over his shoulder, “Let’s put a hold on the bird-watching for now, yeah?”

“Certainly, boss.” FRIDAY answered immediately. “‘Plague Risk Iminent’ Protocol deactivated.”

“There, happy?”

“No.”

“Well, when are you ever?” Tony asked, kicking one of the boxes away and proceeding on to the next one. “Back to normal, as far as I’m concerned.”

"Uh huh. What is all this, anyway? There's, like, ten boxes in here."

"What, you gonna lose your shit over my mail now, Hogan?”

“Not if you actually let the security team screen it like you’re supposed to, I won’t.”

“Like anybody actually sends bombs and anthrax by mail anymore. That’s so early 2000’s. Relax. Rhodey's mom was storing some of my stuff from MIT," Tony told him, pulling out a stack of old laboratory notebooks and setting them aside. "Apparently she's selling her house and wants to 'downsize'...which evidently means dumping all my shit back on me."

"If it’s shit, why did she have it in the first place?"

"I didn't ask her to keep it for me," Tony told him, rolling his eyes. "I left all this out for the trash and she got all upset. Something about how I would be so sad that I didn't save anything from the best years of my life and I would regret it when I was older. So she took them. And guess what? I'm older. My time at MIT was definitely not the best years of my life. And I still do not give a damn about this shit."

"Are you just going to get rid of it?"

"I guess," Tony told him with a shrug. "Most of it’s old textbooks and lab notebooks anyways, so it’s not like it’s actually useful."

“I don’t know,” Happy said, stooping down to scoop up an old coding text and casually beginning to flip through it. “It might be good to have a few reference books laying around.”

“Please, Hap, a coding book from last year would be considered obsolete.” Tony told him, pushing himself to his feet, back cracking as he did. “And these are from the ‘80’s. They’re so ancient they’re pretty much useless.”

“So what does that make you?”

“Hey-”

“If they’re so old and pointless,” Happy cut him off with a smirk, ignoring Tony’s glare, “You could always sell them on Ebay. Like any true nerd could pass up on the chance to own Tony Stark’s dinosaur college books. Hell, that’s gotta like a wet dream come true for them.”

“Happy, what the fu-”

"Boss, incoming call from Peter Parker." FRIDAY's cool and disinterested voice suddenly interrupted. 

"Patch it through." Tony told her before shooting Happy a look. “Behave.” He mouthed silently. Happy just rolled his eyes in response. A moment of blissful silence passed, then two, and then suddenly...

"Karen, did it go through? Can you tell? How am I supposed to know it went through? Mr. Stark? Hello? Are you there? I'm not sure how this thing works I've never actually called you from the suit before-"

...aaannndddd the silence was broken by the fast, hyperactive ramblings of a particular teenager Happy was getting more and more familiar with against his will. Suppressing a groan, he instead pinched his brow, trying in vain to block out the kid as he continued to blabber on and on. Tony, for his part, softened. Actually, honest-to-God softened. Happy watched his shoulders slump, relaxed, and his mouth curled ever so slightly as soon as the kid's voice came over FRIDAY's intercom.

"Hey, kid," He called out, cutting off Peter's rambling immediately. "What's up?"

"Oh, hey, it worked! Oh, man this is so awesome! Mr. Stark!” Despite the fact that Peter was practically shouting over the line, Happy could barely hear what he was saying, his voice scarcely rising above the rushing roar of what Happy could only assume was the wind. Happy twitched at that sound. Peter’s overly chipper enthusiasm was one thing, but pointless, thunderous white noise was another. It was way too early to be dealing with Tony’s shit on top of the kid’s. “So, the craziest thing just happened! I was over in Queens patrolling like I always do and I was passing by the hospital’s parking garage and I saw this guy who was skulking around the cars and he kept looking in all their windows like he was looking for something and he had his hoodie up so you couldn’t really see his face and I know making assumptions about people is bad, but seriously, if you saw him you would know he was up to something-”

"God, kid, how do you breathe?" Happy couldn't help but ask. Seriously, it was actually amazing just how fast the kid could talk when he got on a roll. 

"Is that Happy? Hey, Happy!"

"Hey, kid," He sighed in response, trying to ignore the fact that Tony was now chuckling softly across from him.

"Hey, Happy, did you hear what I was saying? I was patrolling in Queens and there was this guy-"

"I heard, Peter, get to the point!"

"Right, sorry! Anyway, so this guy has been hanging around for a while and I was watching him cause I thought he looked suspicious and anyway it turns out I was right because the next thing I knew he’s pulling out this weird metal thing-y and he sticking it this one car’s window so I flipped in and webbed him up and Karen called the police and it turns out the car the guy was breaking into was the mayor’s! So the police told him what I did and he was so happy that he wants to give me an award or something!"

"'An award or something'?" Tony repeated, eyebrow quirking in amusement.

"I wasn't really listening, I was kinda freaking out about the whole thing.”

“You know, kid, you make it sound like there are times you actually do listen and we all know that’s just not true.”

“I listen!”

"That’s a very loose definition of what you do." Tony answered. "But seriously, Pete, congratulations. They’ll be more where that came from, trust me.” The gentle smile Tony had been wearing suddenly quirked into a teasing smirk. “At this rate, who knows? You might even give me a run for my money, kiddo. Call me in a few years. We can compare trophies.”

“Tony, someone gave you a medal and called you a ‘national treasure’ once. Against their will. That hardly counts.” Happy supplied dully from across the room.

“I’m sorry, do all my engineering awards mean nothing to you?” Tony snarled, shooting Happy a glare. 

“Oh, you mean all the awards that half the time you didn’t even think were worth showing up to receive?” Happy asked, raising an eyebrow. “My bad. How could I forget. Whatever happened to those anyway?”

“Hey, you know what? Why don’t we go out and celebrate?” Tony said loudly cutting Happy off. “I’ll even take you to that nasty dive you like so much.”

“Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark, but you don’t have to.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, kid: I don’t have to do anything. Come on, I want to. Where are you by the way? I can barely hear you."

"I'm actually on my way over now. Is that ok? I tried to have Karen ask FRIDAY but she just put through to you-"

"Yeah, Pete, it's fine," Tony assured him calmly, cutting him off again. "How far away are you?"

"Like a minute out. What floor are you guys on? Are you in the labs?"

"No, penthouse," Tony told him, "But hold on, we'll meet you on one of the lower floors-"

"Oh, it's not a problem, Mr. Stark! See you in a minute!"

"Wait, Peter-!"

"Mr. Parker is no longer connected," FRIDAY's bored voice cut him off. 

"Great," Tony snapped at her before turning to Happy. "There's no way in the hell that kid can clear that height that fast. Come on, Hap, we'll meet the kid on the deck."

"Why do I have to come down to the deck?" Happy asked him, rolling his eyes. "He's your kid, you go down and deal with him."

"Ah come on, Happy, you love him."

"In small doses." Happy grunted. "Not all of us love him as much as you do."

"Who says I-"

"Boss, Peter Parker is-!" FRIDAY's voice suddenly cut him off, but before she could finish, the kid came flying through the open window across the room, crashing immediately to the ground and rolling with the impact.

"Holy shit!" Happy shouted, jumping to his feet. Tony, for his part, barely reacted at all, merely striding across the room and hauling Peter to his feet with a sigh.

"Kid, you've got to stop doing that," He told him. "Really, would it kill you just to use the door?"

"Hey, Mr. Stark!" Peter replied, fingers fumbling for a second before yanking his mask off. "What's going on?"

"Oh, not much," Tony answered airily, watching as Peter stumbled further into the room. Jeez, the kid must have hit the ground harder than Happy initially thought. His legs were shaking so bad he could barely walk straight."Just going through some of my old college things, dealing with teenage vigilantes flying through my window. You know, the usual."

"Woah!" Peter breathed, surveying the stacks of boxes in amazement and moving hesitatingly towards them. "This is all your stuff from college? That's so cool!"

"Not really," Tony assured him with a shrug, following not far behind him. "Don't get too excited, kid, I'm not keeping any of it."

"You're not?" Peter said, spinning around to look at him and nearly falling over. Happy couldn't help but stare at him. Seriously, what was wrong with the kid?, "Why not?"

"Trust me, kid, there ain't nothing in there worth having.'

"But you have to save some stuff, Mr. Stark!" The kid protested, and as he did, his whole body convulsed, the shudder so great that he had to grab ahold of the nearby countertop to keep from falling over. “It’s your college stuff!”

"Kid, what’s the matter with you?” Happy cut in suddenly, unable to ignore it anymore. "Why are you shaking so bad? Please, for the love of God don't tell me you've started drinking coffee."

"Coffee is essential, Happy," Peter said, grinning and wrapping his arms around himself. Over his shoulder, Tony smirked at him. 

"Not in your case, it's not." Happy glared at him. 

"As much as I hate to agree with him, Happy's probably right about that one, bud." Tony chuckled. "Seriously, though, what's up with you?"

Peter flushed slightly and looked away. If he had to guess, the kid probably would have shuffled his feet, but given how much his body was shuddering and how frantically he was rubbing his hands over his arms, he doubted he could. "It's just a little cold out, Mr. Stark."

"So turn the heater on." Tony replied, rolling his eyes again. 

"Yeah...about that...I think I might have...broke it?"

"You bro-how did you break it?"

"I don't know! It was just so cold this winter and I had it going all the time and there were some nights were it was so cold that I couldn't sleep and then this one night I got home late from patrol and I just fell asleep in my suit and it was so great that I decided to start sleeping in it-"

"Peter." Tony said, cutting him off with a raised hand. "Relax. It's an easy fix. I'm surprised you didn't try to already yourself."

"Well, you're the one always yelling at me when I start screwing around with the suit."

"When you disable the coding! The heater's not even part of that - it's a whole separate system!"

"I gotta say, Mr. Stark, you're really sending me some mixed messages here," Peter said, still grinning, though it was somewhat ruined by the fact that his teeth were chattering so hard that it looked more like a grimace. 

"Oh for God's-" Tony cut himself off, inhaling deeply. "Alright. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to stop abusing your suit's heater. I'm going to fix it and when I'm done, I'm buying you enough electric blankets that you can have a seat at the next shareholders' meeting."

"You know, I’m pretty sure you're not supposed to reward kids for bad behavior, Boss."

"Happy, shouldn't you be looking into a major security breach involving Spider-Man and the east penthouse suite windows?” Tony plowed on. "Come on, kid, go to your room and change."

"But, Mr. Stark, I don't have any spare clothes here." Peter told him, looking embarrassed. "Why don't I just come back another time?"

"You're not swinging all the way back to Queens in this weather without a heater," Tony snapped at him before marching over to one of the boxes. Yanking the lid off, he riffled through the contents for a moment, muttering under his breath before he pulled out two pieces of clothing. "I knew they were in there. Here, kid, you can have these." Tony said thrusting what appeared to be a pair of ratty sweatpants and a sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo "M.I.T." across the chest. Peter's eyes widened.

"No, Mr. Stark, that's ok, really!"

"What, you worried you'll catch my cooties?"

"What? No!"

"Then just take them, Pete. God."

"I can't just take your clothes!"

"Kid, either you take them or they end up on the curb. Seriously, take them. Consider it your MIT starter pack."

“My...Mr. Stark, you...you really think I could get into MIT?”

“Easily.” Tony huffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not even a question, kid. So come on and take ‘em already.”

"I can’t.” Peter whined.

“Why not?" Tony snapped, glaring at him.

“Because...well...even if I wanted to go to MIT, it’s not like I could afford to.” Peter muttered, blushing furiously.

"Oh, darn. If only there was some kind of scholarship fund or something that I not only financed but also made all executive decisions on. You know, something like the Stark Industries Scholarship Award that MIT gives out every year. Oh, wait a minute, there is!"

"...Are you being serious?" Peter asked him, staring at Tony as though he had told him he had bought him a small island. "You'd really give me the Stark Scholarship?”

"Kid, even if didn’t already reserve the 2019 fund specifically for you, I could still get you in with just one phone call."

“But isn’t that, like, a conflict of interest or something? Since you know me?”

“Pretty much everything I do is a conflict of interest in one way or another.” Tony told him with a shrug. “At this point, it’s pretty much ‘go big or go home’.”

"Mr. Stark, I can't take your scholarship - there's probably so many other kids who deserve it-"

"Kid, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.”

“But-”

“Peter, I dare you to find anyone else whose resume includes a 4.4 GPA from a private STEM school reserved for genius-level IQs, a membership with the decathlon team that won Nationals last year and will probably win again this year, an internship with MIT’s most infamous alum, and oh, let’s not forget your little extracurricular activity as New York’s resident crime-fighting spider. Would you list that under ‘club membership’ or ‘volunteer work’? You know what? Doesn’t matter. What matters is that it screams ‘merit and character’ and all that bullshit colleges care so much about these days. You’re getting that scholarship.”

"Yeah, but I might not even go to MIT, what if I decide to go somewhere else?"

"Then you go somewhere else and you still get awesome vintage MIT merch." Tony told him, looking at the kid like it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

"But-"

"Jesus! For the love of Christ, Peter, just take the damn sweatshirt!" Happy snapped, finally losing his patience with the conversation.

"Happy, don't yell at him!"

"You yell at him all the time!" 

"I think it's safe to say I've earned that right!"

"And I haven't?!"

“God, we really need to look into getting you some time off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks so much to everyone who's read, bookmarked, commented, and left kudos on my story. You all have made my day!  
> I just wanted to let you guys know that I have written both chapter 4 and chapter 5. Chapter 4 is basically done, I just have to go back and edit a few more things before I post it. I'm going to be really busy for the next two weeks, but it will probably be up Friday evening, so be on the lookout!


	4. Applesauce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this started out as one of my favorite chapters. Now I kinda hate it. I'm hoping it's because I've read and re-read this chapter so much that I'm sick of it. Please let me know what you think!

Happy growled through his teeth, scanning the sea of people with growing desperation. He was going to kill the kid when he found him.

“Test him again.”

“I’m pretty sure you mean ‘text’. And no, I’ve already texted him five times.”

“Wh-where is he?”

“Tony, I’ve already told you I don’t know! Now shut up and let me think!”

“We’re not leaving without the kid, Happy.” Tony said, sounding surprisingly firm, given the situation. “It’s the rules - you never leave a man behind.”

“Hey. Tony. Last I checked we weren’t the army. And as far as I’m concerned if he doesn’t show up in the next two seconds-”

“Oh, hey, guys!” Peter suddenly chirped as he materialized from seemingly nowhere at Happy’s elbow. “Man, I cannot believe how crazy this place is-”

“Finally! Come on, kid, we’re leaving.”

“What? Why?” Peter whined. “I didn’t even get a chance to visit that booth about the rocket algorithms-”

“Peter! Hey, there you are!” Tony called out, whirling around to face Peter and slamming his hands down onto his shoulders. “Listen, kid, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about it, and you can’t join the army.”

“I-wait, what?”

“You can’t do it. Ok? You jus’ can’t. You’re too....you’re too small. And you’re not real good at following directions. You’d get yourself dead. Jus-just don’t do it, ok? The draft’s over.”

“What are you talking about? Short people can be soldiers too.” Peter pointed out, frowning at him. “And I’m not that much shorter than you. And I’m not even done growing...and for that matter, I’m not even eighteen, so I couldn’t even join if I wanted to.”

Tony huffed, and rolled his eyes. “It’s not that you’re small, Pete. You’re just...you’re real little, ok?”

"Mr. Stark, are you ok?" Peter asked hesitatingly, staring at Tony as he swayed before him.

"I'm awesome, kiddo." Tony told him, even as he stumbled off to the side, nearly falling over as he did.

"Uh, Happy?" Peter asked, glancing nervously around at Happy, who quickly threw an arm around Tony's shoulders, urging him along with Peter. 

"He's fine, Peter," He assured him shortly. 

"Are you sure? He's acting...different."

"Trust me, kid, this is pretty standard '90's era Tony behavior." Happy told him. 

"What is?" 

"Drunk bullshit."

"Shhh!" Tony said loudly, careening into Happy's side in a pathetic attempt to whisper in his ear. "Happy! Don't tell the kid I'm drunk!"

"He's not an idiot, Tony." 

"Wait, Mr. Stark, are you really drunk right now?"

"Happy! I tol' you not to tell 'im!"

Happy heaved sigh. “Peter, come on. We gotta go. Now.”

"But, Mr. Stark, I don’t understand- how did you even get drunk in the first place?" Peter asked, following closely behind them as Happy steered them towards the lobby. "Does the Museum have a bar or something?"

"Kid, I'm not drunk, I'm just...tipsy..."

"This guy was showcasing this thing he made - making synthetic alcohol right in front of you or something." Happy said to Peter over his shoulder. "I didn’t really get the science behind it. All I know is that you add the ingredients, punch in some numbers into this high tech mixer thing he had and boom! 100 proof booze made to your order.”

“Where was I?”

“Hell if I know.” Happy said with a shrug. “You said something about a bioengineering demonstration and I stopped listening to you.”

“You let me go off on my own without knowing where I was?” Peter asked, sounding insulted. “After you literally made me sit through your entire PowerPoint presentation explaining my security detail for tonight?”

“Since when do you complain about me not babysitting you enough?”

“Since you referred to me as a ‘potential target’ the entire time you were lecturing me.” Peter told him. “I could have been assassinated tonight and you wouldn’t have even known it!”

“Jeez, dramatic much, Parker?” Happy couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Am I gonna have to make you take a refresher course on my presentation? Because you clearly weren’t paying attention.”

“No, that’s not necessary!” Peter said quickly, looking at Happy with mild horror. “I was paying attention, I promise!”

“Then you should know that ‘targeted’ doesn’t mean ‘assassinated’, dumbass.” Happy told him. “If something was going to happen to you tonight, you’d more likely be kidnapped, tortured, and held for ransom...and then maybe murdered.”

“...Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Would you rather be ‘assassinated’?”

“Ok, fine,” Peter huffed at him. “You let me go off on my own when you knew I could have been kidnapped, tortured, and then possibly murdered?”

“Come on, kid, have some faith.” Happy told him. “If anybody ever did take you, you’d be back with us so fast you wouldn’t even have time to realize you were gone.”

“Because you know I could handle myself?” Peter asked eagerly, perking up. “Or because you and Tony would do everything you could to get me back?”

“Kid, did you by any chance read ‘The Ransom of Red Chief’ for school?”

“Uh...yeah. Why?”

“Because that’s what would happen if you were ever kidnapped.” Happy told him. “Tony and I wouldn’t have to even do anything and we’d have you back in an hour. Tops. I wouldn’t even get to enjoy the time off from you.”

“Gee, thanks.” Peter said, scowling at him.

"They gave me this drink called an 'Applesauce', Peter." Tony interjected suddenly. "It was amazing!" 

“God, you would get drunk on a girl drink.”

"What’s an ‘Applesauce’?” Peter asked, sounding amused as Tony almost stumbled into a plant.

"Tha’s not somethin’ you need to know." Tony told him, trying, and failing, to sound firm. "You know, kid, I'm not proud of this, but I used to drink a lot...like a lot...back in the '90s. But it’s ok, because that was way before we met. You pro’lly didn’t even know who I was back then.”

"Mr. Stark, I was born in 2001."

"What?" Tony said loudly, whirling around to stare at Peter. "You were born in 2001?! That was like...seven years ago! Happy did you know that?"

"No I did not." Happy snapped, rushing after Tony before he could tip over. "But you did."

"I did?!"

"Yes, Tony." 

"Wow. That's amazing." Tony said, before batting angrily at Happy's hands. "Get the fuck off me. I can walk." 

"No that way, that way!" Happy snapped, pushing him toward the entrance. 

"Where are we anyway? This is a nice place."

"The Natural Science Museum."

"Oh."

Happy pushed Tony towards the waiting towncar, Tony stumbling slightly to walk straight and Peter jogging slightly to keep up. By the time Tony had collapsed into the back seat, a handful of paparazzi had caught sight of them, and were shouting to try to get their attention. Happy quickly shoved Peter in the car after Tony and rushed to the driver's seat, tossing a hundred dollar bill at the valet, desperate to get them out of there before any of them could get a shot of Tony at his finest. 

"Punch it, Chewy!" Tony called to him, words slurring slightly while Peter crowed with glee, evidently thrilled that Tony had made a drunken, ‘Star Wars’ reference. Happy just rolled his eyes, glancing at his rearview mirror before jerking the wheel hard and steering the car into oncoming traffic. As they pulled away, Happy caught sight of a small crowd of paparazzi chasing after them, but they disappeared when he turned the first corner he came across. He let out a sigh of relief. 

"Alright, boss, where to?" He called back to Tony, hoping he was sober enough to answer. Or was at least conscious. "We taking the kid back to Queens, or what?"

"Uhhh," Tony drawled vaguely from the backseat. "May said...something. Something important about Peter...um...Pete, hel' me out. What'd your aunt hot say?"

"She said I could spend the night with you at the Tower." Peter said, sounding like he was barely holding in his laughter. "If you were ok with it."

"'Course I'm ok wit' it." Tony said. 

"Are you sure you're ok, Mr. Stark?"

"Never...Never better, Pete. Are you ok?" 

"Yeah, I'm ok, Mr. Stark."

"Good." Tony said with a sigh. "Uh, Hap! T-Tower!"

"You got it."

"Man, words are hard."

"They sure are.”

"Are you patro-pa'riz-pat'rini'g me, Hogan?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, 'cause I'm the boss of you."

"Yeah, you are." Happy told him pointedly. "You know who else you’re supposed to be the boss of right now?”

"God, I shouldn’t be allowed to be responsible for anybody right now." Tony groaned, head falling back against his seat’s headrest. "Shit. Happy!”

“God, what?” Happy snapped.

“Don't tell the kid I'm drunk."

"Pretty sure he already knows, Boss."

"God dammit!"

"It's alright, Mr. Stark," Peter chuckled. "I don't mind."

"Peter!" Tony exclaimed, turning toward him. "Oh, good you're here!"

"Are you sure those drinks did have, like, something else in them, Happy?" 

"Who's to say, kid?" Happy said shortly. He had to say, tonight was bar none the easiest time he had ever had getting a drunk Tony to cooperate. It was amazing, actually, how easy it was to get him out of the museum and into the car. He was about 99% certain that Peter had something to do with that. He'd have to make it up to the kid later. "He's fine, Peter. Don't worry. This is nothing compared to some of the other stuff he's done."

"Yeah, Happy, I've done so many worse stuff and you have no idea.”

"I was talking to the kid."

"Oh, shit, he didn't hear me did he?"

"Nope."

"Oh, thank God. Listen, Hap," Tony slumped forward slightly, trying to get closer to Happy to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "I think Peter knows I'm drunk righ' now and I've been drunk before. Just don' tell him ‘bout the drugs, ok?"

"Sure thing."

Tony answered with a grunt and flopped backwards against his seat again. Happy glanced back at them in his mirror, watching as Tony's head rolled around so that he could fix Peter with his unsteady gaze. "You're a good kid, Peter." He slurred. 

"Aw, thanks, Mr. Stark." Peter grinned. "You're a pretty good mentor."

"No, I mean you're a good kid. Like a really good kid. God, I've never seen anything like it. You're the best kid I know."

"You're pretty awesome yourself, Mr. Stark." Peter answered, ducking his head in embarrassment of the praise. 

Tony huffed. "You're not listening to me." 

"I'm listening." Peter assured. "You think I'm a good kid."

"I don't think you're a good kid," Tony said. "You are a good kid. I think you're the best kid."

"Alright, Mr. Stark." 

Tony hummed, and then threw an arm around Peter, pulling him closer. "You know, Pete, I know you’re not gonna remember this in the morning, so I’m just gonna come out and say it: you're one of the best things to ever happen to me."

"Come on, Mr. Stark, you've had to have way better stuff than me happen to you."

"Nope." Tony said. "You're the best."

"What about when you became Iron Man?"

"Iron Man can go fuck his'self. That asshole gave me anxiety and PT...P...it’s got letters.”

"What about the Avengers?"

"Screw 'em. Bunch of ungrateful assholes."

"What about Pepper?"

"Oh...yeah ok she's pretty awesome too." A silence fell over the group for a few moments, and then Tony spoke up again. "You two are tied."

"I'm tied with Miss Potts?"

"Yeps."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

“Hey, Happy?” Peter called with a slight chuckle. “Just how drunk do you think he is for saying that?" 

Though Peter’s tone was light, there was something in it that caught Happy’s attention. Some gossamer, underlying current of desperation, like he wanted more than anything to believe what Tony said was true and was hoping against hope that maybe Happy would tell him that it was. That he really was one of the best things to have ever happened to Tony. Happy glanced back at the two again, smirking when he met Peter’s gaze. The kid was still tucked under Tony's arm, and it didn’t look like Tony was going to be letting him go anytime soon. Not that Peter looked like he had any intention of moving either. Screw it, Happy decided. For how smart they both were, the two of them really were idiots. And if Tony was gonna make him babysit not only his drunk ass, but Peter’s insubordinate one as well, he may as well get him back and tell Peter the truth. It wasn’t like Tony could deny it anyway.

"You ever heard the phrase 'drunk words are sober thoughts'?

"Yeah?"

"Well, put it to you this way, kid. For Tony to tell you what he really thinks about something, he's gotta be pretty damn drunk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:  
> 1\. If you're sitting there saying to yourself "Drunk people aren't this stupid", let me tell you they are. A lot of the dialogue from this chapter was inspired by what I can remember from drunk conversations with my friends and what my drunk friends have said to me while I was babysitting them. And I can assure you, we really were that stupid.
> 
> 2\. For those of you who didn't read "The Ransom of Red Chief" and for those of you who did but don't remember what it's about, it's a short story about these two criminals who kidnap the son of the town's richest man with the intent of holding him for ransom. The plan backfires when the man refuses to pay the ransom for his son, and eventually, the criminals are so annoyed by this brat that they end up paying the father the ransom money just so he agrees to take his kid back. Basically, Happy is saying that Peter would annoy his potential kidnappers so much that they would end up giving him back before they could even get the ransom money.


	5. Chapter 5, Part 1: Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "PSD: personal security detail or protective service detail - a protective team assigned to protect the personal security of an individual or group."

"Hey. Happy." 

Tony's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and it was the first time he had spoken since Happy had picked him and Peter up at the airstrip nearly thirty minutes ago. The last time he had said anything was right after Peter had somehow ran straight into the open SUV door, smacking his head against the glass with a resounding ‘thunk’ with such force that he actually managed to knock himself off his own two feet. Both he and Tony whipped around at the sound, and Happy couldn’t hold back the snort at the look on the kid’s face as he sat there on his ass, blinking and stunned, as though he had no idea just how he ended up there. 

“Jesus. Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I, kid?” Tony had said, stepping forward and hauling Peter up. “Nope, you’re done.” Tony then snapped when Peter had moved to help Happy load their bags, shoving him in the car instead. “Now sit down before you hurt yourself. Again.”

Peter had muttered something unintelligible before Tony slammed the door shut, his one hand hovering vaguely near his forehead and the other rubbing at his eyes, but despite what Happy could only assume were protests, he made no move to disobey Tony. For once. By the time he and Tony had climbed in, Peter was barely awake, blinking slowly as Happy began to steer them toward the highway.

“You would try and break my car, wouldn’t you, kid?” Tony asked, and Happy could easily imagine him shaking his head. “And after I took you to the rocket science version of comic con and everything.”   
Happy glanced up at the rearview mirror just in time to catch Tony reach over and shove Peter’s hand out of the way, inspecting the small lump for himself. Though Peter winced and tried to pull away, Tony held him firm, frowning as he prodded at the kid’s hairline.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter moaned. “I promise I’ll pay for the w-.”

“Two things I better not hear from you right now, Pete,” Tony interrupted. “Unnecessary apologies and you offering to pay for anything. Piggy bank money goes strictly towards Legos and extra sandwich pickles. Them’s the rules, kid.”

“But I-”

“Seriously, Peter.” Tony said firmly. “It’s no big deal. Forget the window.”

“What happened to the window?” Happy asked, twisting briefly in his seat to look back at Peter’s window, which was now sporting a series of thin cracks at the very spot where Peter’s forehead had collided with it a minute before. “What the-That’s bulletproof glass! Kid, are you bleeding?!”

Tony scoffed. “Come on, Happy, you and I both know the kid’s got way too thick a skull for that to have done any kind of real damage. Right, Pete?”

“Sorry,” Peter said again, sounding mortified.

“Kid, the only reason you should be saying that again is because you’ve got a concussion and you’re stuck on repeat.” Tony told him, and after thinking for a moment, he continued, “Of course, if you’ve got a concussion then that means I have to hear May tell me what an irresponsible dumbass I am, and I’d really prefer not to. Once was enough. You know what? It would be better for all our sakes if you just stop apologizing. Except maybe Happy. Sorry, Hap. Looks like you won’t get the chance to flirt with ‘Aunt Yes Please’ tonight after all.”

“Please don’t ever call her that again.” Peter begged weakly above Happy’s sputtered protests. 

Tony had just chuckled, and the car soon fell silent. It wasn’t until they were just about to pull into the Tower that Tony had spoken up.

"Hap," He called softly again.

"What?"

"I need you to drive around the block a couple times."

"...What?"

"Just...let's go for a quick ride."

"Tony, we've been taking a ride," Happy snapped. "For the last half hour. It's almost two in the morning."

"Come on, Happy, just drive around the block a few times."

"Why?" Happy snapped.

“Oh, I don’t, know, maybe so when the people at payroll call and ask why I’m signing over such massive checks to you I actually have a reason?” Tony retorted. 

Maybe driving Tony around was technically part of Happy’s job description, and yes, maybe what Tony was paying him was more than most people saw in their lifetime to do it, but that didn’t mean he had any intention of driving aimlessly through the busiest, most congested streets of America at two in the morning for no damn reason. Happy turned his head just enough so he could glare at Tony over his shoulder, certain he was about to endure another round of Tony’s pointless, infuriating, bullshit demands and the migraine that was sure to follow. But what he saw as he looked over gave him pause. 

Peter was slumped against Tony, head resting heavily on his shoulder, mouth half open and his eyes shut, chest rising and falling in a slow and peaceful rhythm, fast asleep. Happy blinked in surprise, and then quickly looked over at Tony, who was sitting stiffly in his seat and looking incredibly uncomfortable with the whole thing. Happy quirked an eyebrow at him, surprised, and Tony heaved a very slight, very shallow breath before he rolled his eyes, clearing trying to avoid Happy’s. Before he looked away, however, Happy caught a glimpse of something in his gaze he had begun to see more and more since Peter had come along. It was something soft, almost tender, but brewing just beneath the surface, was an unbridled, unadulterated terror. Happy sighed, knowing he couldn't possibly say no to Tony now, not when it meant having to wake the poor kid up, but even as he began to turn the wheel, Tony spoke up, as though trying to justify what he was asking.

"I thought for sure he would have slept on the plane. He barely slept the whole time we were out there...probably wasn’t the best idea to let him down that value size bag of gummy worms before we took off. " 

Happy groaned. "God, why would you let him eat that?"

"It made him happy," Tony said defensively.

"Last I checked, everything made him happy." Happy grumbled. "Jesus, you need to learn to tell your kid 'no'."

“He’s not my kid.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Happy retorted. “And just for the record, you’re not fooling anyone else either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means. I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on convincing everyone you don’t care about the kid when it’s so goddamn obvious you do.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know. Clearly the kid means nothing to you. We’re just driving around downtown New York at this godforsaken hour because we’ve got nothing better to do.” Happy said, piling on as much sarcasm into his tone as he could. “And you sure as hell would never take the kid to a weekend nerd convention on the other side of the country just because he said he ‘always wanted to go.’ I mean God forbid you give the kid the wrong idea and make him think he’s more than just a tool in your belt.”

“Alright, Happy, enough.” Tony snapped. “Enough with the bullshit introspective commentary. I don’t want to hear it. ”

“Jesus, what is your problem?” 

“My problem is that it past midnight and you’re being an ass.” Tony snarled. 

“Like either of those are things you’ve haven’t dealt with before.” Happy scoffed. “And bullshit. You’ve been like this for almost two weeks. All I can say is I hope you didn’t treat the kid that way when you were out there. God knows he doesn’t deserve it. ”

Tony didn’t answer for a moment, and for some reason, Happy felt something that felt an awful lot like dread creep into the pit of his stomach. “Happy.” He said eventually, so quietly that Happy almost didn’t hear him. “There’s...something happened.”

“...What?” Happy asked him. The feeling in his stomach sharpened, solidified, became more real. Tony met tragedy the same way he met pretty much everything else in life: with bullshit and deflection. And Tony kept these two cards incredibly close to the chest. For him to fold and lay them down, whatever had happened must be really and truly bad, in ways that anyone else could barely begin to comprehend. “Tony, what happened?” 

“Do you remember the night we took the kid to the Natural History Museum?” Tony asked quietly.

Happy paused for a moment. He had no idea where Tony was going with this, but he was sure he wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was. That night had been...strange...even by Tony’s exceptionally insane standards, and it had definitely been one of the surprisingly few times that Happy had been truly angry with him. The kid had been talking about the exposition for weeks. And while Peter did get to see the majority of the booths and demonstrations, the simple fact of the matter was that Tony fucked up and Peter had been the one to pay the price for it. Not that the kid seemed to mind. If anything, he had seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious. And yes, no buildings were leveled in Tony’s drunken wake and nothing had ended up on fire. Hell, Tony had even managed to piss and puke in his own toilet, which, sadly, was a feat nothing short of miraculous when Happy considered all the alternatives he had seen over the years. All-in-all, it wasn’t even close to the worst thing Tony had ever done, but that didn’t stop Happy from giving him the cold shoulder for a solid week afterwards. For Tony to so blatantly dismiss Peter’s wants and needs in favor of his own...it was something so disturbingly reminiscent of Howard that Happy still got angry just thinking about it. He had thought for sure Tony would never do that to the kid. That he would never in a million years let the kid endure what he once had. Evidently he was wrong.

“How could I forget?” He managed at last. “It’s not every day you make a complete and total, irresponsible ass of yourself. Most days you manage to hold back a little. Half-ass it.”

It was a bad joke and Happy knew it. Sue him, it was fuck-this-shit o’clock and he had been up for nineteen hours straight. Not that Tony cared. Any opportunity Tony had to tease Happy relentlessly, he’d take it. But when he didn’t so much as snort, Happy knew whatever was going on was something serious. “Tony. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said. “The only thing that happened that night was you got drunk.”

Tony shook his head, avoiding Happy’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Before we left,” He said, hesitating. “Do you remember what happened right before we left?”

Happy thought for a moment, and with a shrug, he said, “Sure. Peter wouldn’t shut up. Same as always. You were being a smart ass. Also same as always. Ummm...I started going over the security detail for the night. And then you made my job infinitely harder than it had to be when you demanded at the last minute that I drop the entire PSD and I cover the two of you for the night. All so the kid could have a ‘normal experience’ or whatever. Thanks a lot for that, by the way.” 

He racked his brains, trying to remember something, anything, out of the ordinary, but nothing was really standing out. He remembered getting increasingly anxious as they were getting ready to leave. He had, after all, become both Tony and Peter’s sole line of defense for the night twenty minutes before they were expected to arrive. Not to mention they were late as it was, and with traffic beginning to pick up, it was going to take five times longer for them to get to the museum than usual. And then…Happy frowned. And then, just as they were finally getting ready to leave…

“You had to step out.” Happy said. “FRIDAY came over the intercom right before we left. She said someone needed to discuss something with you.”

“It was Cap.” Was all Tony said in response.

Now Happy remembered. Tony had refused at first, ever eager for any chance to make Cap’s life even just a little inconvenient, but FRIDAY had insisted, and with a roll of his eyes, Tony had disappeared, promising he’d only be five minutes. By the time he finally reappeared, roughly fifteen minutes later, Happy had been so preoccupied with getting everyone into the car and to museum on time that he hadn’t been paying close attention to Tony. Looking back now... 

Something did seem off when Tony had come back. Happy vaguely remembered thinking he’d seemed tense, staring straight ahead and refusing to look at anybody, and the look on his face had been frighteningly blank. Nor did he say a word to either of them, from the moment they had piled into the car until the moment he’d started downing shots. Not that it really mattered. The kid had talked enough for all three of them combined and Happy had been so focused on ignoring Peter’s typical, stream-of-consciousness ramblings that he hadn’t really noticed just how unusually quiet Tony was being. And the moment Peter had disappeared to listen to some stem cell lecture, Tony had whipped around and headed straight for a booth demonstrating some kind of drink mixer for astronauts. Tony had watched the presenter toss packets of dehydrated ingredients into the silver mixer, face still blank, and when the young man offered the crowd the chance to sample the tequila he’d synthesized before them, Tony had reached out and plucked the little shot glass from his hand without a word, downing it instantly. 

Happy had been so shocked by the unexpectedness of it that it took him a minute to accept the fact that it had actually happened, and by the time he finally asked Tony just what the hell he was doing, Tony was on his fourth shot and the inventor, evidently thrilled to have Tony Stark show interest in his mixer, was only too happy to oblige him with whatever he wanted. By the time Happy finally managed to pull Tony away, he was hopelessly drunk. 

“So what did he want?” Happy asked. “Is everything ok?”

“No.” Tony muttered without hesitation. “No. It’s not ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten chapter 5 three times and it's still not completely done. So I've broken it up into two parts (sorry for the cliffhanger). No idea when part 2 will be done.


	6. Chapter 5, Part 2: Hell hath no Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Was. So. Fucking. Hard. To. Write. I really hope you guys like my story and what I've done with it. Thanks again to every one who thought it was worth reading. 
> 
>  
> 
> PS: If you ask Rain Main, he'll tell you he's an excellent driver.

“So what did he want?” Happy asked. “Is everything ok?”

“No.” Tony muttered without hesitation. “No. It’s not ok.”

“Tony.” Happy said firmly, forcing himself to stay calm and composed. “Just tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what happened.”

“Just don’t freak out.” Tony said, sounding tired. 

“Just don’t give me a reason to.”

Tony stayed quiet for a few seconds more, then he heaved an enormous sigh. “I met Cap down in the main conference room like he asked.” He admitted hesitatingly. “I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe that he wanted to talk about the new Accords agreement or that he needed me to run diagnostics on the quinjet. I don’t know. Anyway, I get there and he wasn’t alone…” Happy was well past frustrated with the entire conversation, his aggravation waging against the terror of whatever happened that had Tony so freaked out. But he allowed Tony to continue at his own pace, knowing it was important. And Tony didn’t disappoint. “Fury was with him.”

“What?!” Happy jerked around to look at Tony with such force that he accidentally yanked the wheel with him, and the car briefly swerved into the oncoming lane. A series of long and loud honks followed as Happy swore and corrected the car. 

“Jesus fuck, Happy!” Tony hissed. 

“Nick Fury was in the Avengers’ Tower?!” Happy howled back, “And I didn’t know about it?!”

“Happy, be quiet-!”

“You’ve got FRIDAY alerting me when there’s goddam pigeons six inches from an open window but I don’t get so much as an email when the fucking director of fucking SHIELD strolls right through our front door-!”

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Though it was thick with sleep and incredibly faint, Peter’s voice plunged the car into such complete silence so fast that it may as well have been a gunshot. “Miss’r Stark? Wha’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, bud. Go back to sleep. We’ve still got a while before we reach the Tower.”

“I wasn’ sleepin’.” Peter mumbled, but he made no move to lift his head from Tony’s shoulder. “Why’s Happy yellin’?”

“Happy’s always yelling about something, kid.” Tony told him without missing a beat. “Trust me, if you stick around long enough, eventually you don’t even hear it anymore. Now shut up and go back to sleep or I’ll have Karen blast ‘80’s love songs the entire time you’re on patrol for a week. And don’t think for one second that I won’t. If there’s one thing I don’t do, it’s negotiate with terrorists.”

“‘m not a ter’ist.” Peter told him indignantly. 

“Yeah? Tell that to Happy.” Tony whispered back, unable to hold back a teasingly smirk. “Every time I tell him to pick you up, he practically bursts into tears and begs me to find someone else to go get you.”

“I do not.” Happy huffed.

“Hey. Rain Man. I was talking to the half pint. You just watch the road and try not to get us killed. Pete, any thoughts?”

“Hmm.” Was all Peter hummed in response, and after a few minutes, it soon became quiet again. 

“Is he asleep?” Happy asked after a while.

“That or he’s got no problem drooling on me.” Tony said, just as quietly. “Jesus. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you having a stroke? I’d ask you to smile for me, but I know a lost cause when I see one.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Happy snapped. “For future reference, just how the fuck am I supposed to react when I find out the American government’s puppet master dropped by the Tower on Steve fucking Rogers’ personal invitation?”

“Well, not like that, preferably.” Tony shot back. “Damn.”

Tony fell silent again after that, and after waiting for a few minutes, Happy couldn’t take it anymore. “Well?” He finally demanded, when it seemed Tony had no intention of continuing. “You wanna finish your story?”

“You know I was gonna, but see, when you react like that, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea-”

“For God’s sake, Tony!” Happy snarled. “You can’t tell me that Cap and Fury ambushed you in your own house and not say what they wanted!” 

“Nothing much. They wanted to talk about Spider-Man.” 

“Okay.” Happy said slowly. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised - after the fight in Leipzig, Cap now knew that Spider-Man existed, and given the fact that Peter had gone toe-to-toe with him, he probably had a pretty good idea of what the kid was capable of. And after everything that had happened over the last few months, from D.C. to homecoming night, most of the country had at least heard of Spider-Man, which meant SHIELD and Fury definitely knew about him. Hell, if Happy had to guess, Peter had probably been on Fury’s radar for a while now. Maybe even before Tony knew about him. “So, what? They officially want him on the team?”

“Not exactly.” Tony muttered darkly.

“What does that mean, ‘not exactly’?” Happy asked, patience wearing dangerously thin. “Either they do or they don’t.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Complicated how?!”

“Because, Happy, the New Accords prohibits the recruitment of minors!”

“Wait, what? Since when?” 

“It’s nice to know you’ve been paying attention for the last couple months.” Tony told him sarcastically. “Jeez, Happy, it’s not like the signing of the New Accords Deal was a nationally televised event or anything.”

“You really expect me to know every clause, section and article of that fucking thing?” Happy snapped. “For fuck’s sake, Tony, you guys were amending shit left and right every goddamn minute the week before you finally signed it! Forgive me for not bothering to keep up! ”

“Well, since you clearly have no appreciation for history in the making-”

“Tony, I swear to God-”

“Under the New Accords Agreement,” Tony quickly explained, “ Any ‘individual of remarkable means’, including the Avengers, can only operate with ‘reasonable autonomy outside of the United Nations’ direction’ if its members agree to surrender their identities for public record. It’s what guarantees the UN the right to hold us accountable if shit goes sideways, especially if we choose to act without the UN’s approval.”

“Right.” Happy said slowly, still not entirely sure what the problem was.

“But it also says that only a legal adult has the capacity to understand the consequences of revealing their identity to an international databank. So part of the Accords also stipulates that a minor cannot enlist or associate with the Avengers or any similar party, or even independently.” Tony continued. “Which means until he turns eighteen, Peter can’t act alone or join the Avengers because the Accords demands that his identity be protected.” Out of the corner of his eye, Happy could just make out Tony’s free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “When I said before that the situation’s complicated...it’s actually pretty simple. As far as the New Accords is concerned, if you’re not with us, you’re against us. And you can only be with us if you’re willing to sign away your privacy rights. Which someone can’t do if they’re a minor.” 

“Wait, what are you saying?” Happy asked. “Tony, are you...are you saying that Peter technically can’t be Spider-Man anymore?”

“Technically. Yeah.” Tony told him. “The New Accords makes it very clear that it will not tolerate unregistered vigilantes.” Tony paused, heaving a sigh. “To be honest, the UN’s been pushing us to do something about Spider-Man for a while now. They want us to either shut him down or formally recruit him, which we can’t do. Personally, I’d have no problem looking the other way if it meant letting the kid have some fun and do some good, but the UN doesn’t agree. And you know Captain Stick-Up-His-Ass. Unless it involves James Barnes, he’s not about to bend the rules for anyone.”

“Oh God.” Happy breathed. “Tony. This is going to break the kid’s heart.” 

“Relax, Hap.” Tony said, but there was something in his tone that Happy really didn’t like. It was definitely sarcastic, but there was something else there too, some subtle, underlying current of defeat, like Tony had already given up all hope on the situation. “Fury’s willing to cut the kid a deal.”

Oh, that wasn’t at all concerning. “Fury wants to cut the kid a deal?” Happy echoed flatly. Maybe he shouldn’t, hell, he had no absolutely reason to, but overall, he trusted Fury, however much he didn’t want to. But that being said, if there was one thing Happy knew about Fury, it was that he didn’t do things out of the kindness of his heart. 

“That’s what I said. Turns out Fury couldn’t care less that Spider-Man’s not even old to qualify for a learner’s permit, much less a driver’s license. As far as he’s concerned, the world needs him, and he’s willing to use any means necessary to make sure that happens.”

“Tony,” Happy said hesitatingly, a horrible thought suddenly dawning on him as he listened to Tony speak. “You didn’t...you didn’t tell them who Spider-Man is, did you?”

“I didn’t have to. Fury already knew.”

“What?” Happy hissed. “How?”

“Come on, Happy, you should know by now that Nick Fury is the last person you should underestimate. He’s all powerful, all knowing...hell, he might actually be God, for all I know.” Tony told him. “And, not to discredit the guy or anything, but let's be honest, the kid’s not exactly what you might call ‘discreet’. Honestly, I’m shocked more people haven’t figured it out by now.” 

“Okay. So Fury knows who Spider-Man is.” Happy said slowly. “And he clearly doesn’t care what the New Accords has to say about protecting the rights of minors.”

“I believe the exact words he used to describe them were ‘complete and total, asinine bullshit’.”

“So what exactly is Fury offering?”

Tony hesitated. “Fury wants Peter to become an agent for SHIELD.” He admitted at long last. “It’s brilliant, actually, when you think about it. As far as the UN is concerned - hell, as far as the general public is concerned - SHIELD doesn’t exist. Which means they can do whatever they want, and they answer to no one. Peter would be under their protection, have full, unlimited access to all their resources, including a new identity to keep the UN happy, and he wouldn’t have to give up Spider-Man. And in exchange, he would belong entirely to them.”

The silence that followed was loud. Happy had no idea what to say to that, much less what to think about it, but his gut instinct was a loud, resounding, ‘hell no’. The idea of Peter being forced into something as prepotent and covert as SHIELD was nothing short of terrifying. Never mind the fact that for all intents and purposes, the world’s most powerful agency was known to only a handful of people, or the fact that it operated completely at the direction of twelve -seriously, twelve!- individuals that no one, not even Fury, knew the identities of. And forget all the whispering that SHIELD had not only been infiltrated but had actually fallen to HYDRA long ago. No, the thing that bothered Happy most about this whole thing was the fact that at the end of the day, as far as SHIELD was concerned, Peter was a means to an end and therefore, expendable. And, well, if he was being honest...

Peter was a pain in his ass. Hands down, one of the biggest pains in his ass. In part because he took the fact that he had Happy's personal number as a blank check to call and text Happy whenever he damn well pleased. And in part because he was a fifteen year old vigilante with no common sense (or sense of self-preservation) whom Happy was partly responsible for him. But he did like the kid. A lot. And the last thing he wanted was to see the kid get hurt, especially because someone else had commanded it. And Tony...if anything ever happened to Peter, Happy knew absolutely that Tony would lose his goddamn mind. But even so...

“Tony,” He said gently. “I get that you’re upset. Believe me, I get it. But you had to have known that this would happen eventually. What Peter’s capable of - that’s not something people are just going to let go by. Sooner or later, people were gonna come looking for him. Fuck, Tony, you and I wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you hadn’t done the same!”

“I know!” Tony snapped. “God dammit, Happy, I know! This whole thing - this is my fault. It’s on me, I know that!” Tony heaved another shuddering breath. “I never should have forced him into this, Happy.” He said. “If anything happens to him...I’m supposed to be the one who’s responsible for him. And I can’t-I can’t protect him from this one, Happy.”

“Tony.” Happy said firmly. “You and both know that even if you never recruited him, Peter would still be running around Queens in those stupid-ass pajamas. That’s something that’s got nothing to do with you. It’s just who he is. The only difference is that if you had never found the kid, he’d have gotten in way over his head, alone, and would probably be bleeding out in some alley before his fifteenth birthday.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You think I’m wrong?” Happy challenged. 

“I think you’re biased.”

“Oh definitely.” Happy said with a shrug. “But even so, you know I have no problem calling bullshit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tony muttered. “But that doesn’t mean you should glorify what I did for Peter, Hap. You of all people should know I didn’t do the kid any favors.”

Happy didn’t answer him, and neither one of them spoke for a while after that. Instead, Happy spent another hour cruising around Manhattan, thinking about everything that had happened to them over the last decade. The moment Tony decided to take the corruption of his company into his own hands, Happy had known his life was never going to be the same. He simply didn’t realize just how much it would change at the time. Looking back now, he barely recognized what his life had been before Iron Man’s debut. From that very moment, Tony had catalyzed a series of what Happy now recognized were entirely un-avoidable events, and with each that followed, from SHIELD’s involvement, to the invasion of New York and the formation of the Avengers, and finally to the Accords, they had each been dragged farther and farther away from the people they had once been. And no matter how much they wanted to, or said they wanted to, there was no going back now. Each and every one of them had seen too much and come too far to go back to what life once was. To who they were before. 

And Peter was no exception. Whether or not the kid knew it, his life had changed only marginally the day he had been bit. It was what followed, each and every choice Peter made, his decision to act with what he had been given, that slaughtered any and all hope of him ever having a normal life. Not that Happy thought for one second Peter would give it up if given the chance. No, even if he knew exactly the agony he would spend the rest of his life facing, Peter would take the pain and everything that came with it, would give everything he had if it meant saving just one life. That was just who Peter was. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Not Happy. Not Tony. Not even Peter. Because what Peter could do was bigger than himself, and there would always be people who would see Peter for what he could do for them and for the world. It was naive to have ever believed he would be exempt from that.

It was well past three in the morning when Happy finally broke the silence that had settled so heavily over them. 

“Boss? You ready to head back yet?

“Yeah. Kid should probably be in a real bed.” Tony whispered back. Happy merely nodded in response, and steered the car back towards the Tower, even though doing so felt nothing short of betrayal.

“So what happens now?” He finally dared to ask. “What’s gonna happen with the kid?”

“Fury wants Cap to take over training Peter.” Tony sighed. “Something about how he can’t trust me to be rational or objective with him.” 

“Can’t imagine why he thinks that.” Happy told him, lips quirking in a small, sad smile. “And when exactly does that start?”

“Probably as soon as I tell the kid what’s going on and he agrees to it.”

“You haven’t told him yet!?” Happy sputtered incredulously. “Tony-it’s been weeks! What have you-?!”

“I know.” Tony cut him off. “I know. It had to come from me. I was the one who dragged him into this. I had to be the one to tell him. I owed him that at least. I just...the kid deserves to be happy, Happy. And I’m gonna be the one to take it from him.”

“Tony, you are not responsible for that kid’s happiness. You can influence it, to an extent, but at the end of the day, whether or not Peter has a good life, or is happy, is up to him. Whether or not you found him or whether or not he ever became Spider-Man, he’s the only one who can decide what to make of what he’s been given. Life is bits of happiness in a sea of shit, and that’s the case for everybody, you, me, the kid, and everyone else included.”

“...Wow, you were being so profound up until that last bit-”

“Tony.” Happy growled warningly. “Don’t be an ass. Just...just be there for him. Honestly, that’s the only thing you can do for him. He’s got a rough way to go and he’s gonna need people to have his back. He’s just a kid, after all.”

“Yeah, I know.” For a while it was quiet again, but then Tony shattered it when he suddenly snorted. "You know I caught him jumping on the bed our first night at the hotel?" He asked. 

"Can't say I'm surprised," Happy told him. "He did that when we were in Germany too."

"Of course he did," Tony chuckled. 

"He's a good kid."

"The best kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...?


End file.
